What's inside the cabinet?
I actually had never paid any attention to it before.
There was enough space around the lock on the cabinet to open a small crack, allowing me to see what was inside.
So, I moved a stool over, climbed up, shone my flashlight inside and followed the stench as I explored the cabinet.
Rustle … rustle...The noises coming from inside made my skin crawl.
There seemed to be something inside and it sensed my approach, making the stench even more intense.
I hurried my movements, as if the truth was right before my eyes, capable of completely curing my lingering doubts!
In an instant, my fear vanished and I excitedly squinted my eyes to peer through the crack, but a furious shout came from behind me.
"Kaylee Ford, what do you think you’re doing?”
Pain shot through me as I tumbled off the stool and twisted my ankle.
My brother stormed out of his room in a rage, not even caring about the game he’d been playing and kicked me hard.
“Are you out of your mind, Kaylee? Why did you climb up so high? What are you even looking for? Who told you to touch that cabinet?”
I curled up in pain, but my brother didn't even think to help me up. Instead, he called our mother to come home and summoned our father from the study.
The three of them hauled me into the living room like I was a criminal, all glaring at me in fury and scolding me.
Why did you go rummaging through that cabinet? Didn't you see it was locked? I told you to cook, but you didn't. Why are you messing with this stuff? Are you just bored and looking for trouble?
“Thank goodness I left the room to use the restroom and saw my sister using a stool to climb up and rummage through the cabinet. Otherwise, who knows what trouble she would have caused? She deserves a good beating.”
“Kaylee, why do you keep sticking your nose in things that aren’t your business? You’re just a girl, full of bad luck. Why can’t you just leave that cabinet alone? How can you be so clueless?”
After their scolding, they finally explained what was locked inside that cabinet. It was a religious statue.
My mother said, "I had been worshipping that religious statue for a long time, but later, a relative came to visit our home and said the statue was empty, the power had left and it wasn’t staying in our home anymore. They told me not to worship it anymore, otherwise it might attract unclean things."
"However, I couldn’t just dispose of it carelessly, let alone discard at will, could I? So, I have an idea. I locked the statue in the cabinet and wrapped red cloth over its eyes."
"People said the statue couldn't be exposed to light, or it would bring bloodshed. If your brother hadn't stopped you just now, you might have broken the taboo," my mother said.
I tried to speak up through the pain, but my words only brought harsher scolding.
“But I smell something rotting coming from the cabinet and it's getting worse …” I tried to explain.
“You keep going on and on about some terrible smell ... so what if you did smell something? It’s not like it’s killing you. You’re still walking, talking, eating just fine, aren’t you? I’ve never heard of someone being killed by a bad smell. Can’t you just stop already?”
“If you keep acting this way, don’t blame us for being harsh. I’ll say you’re crazy and send you to a mental hospital to experience what it’s like there, so you stop complaining and bothering us.”
The coldness and ruthlessness in my mother's words made me not dare to say another word because I knew she meant it.
I could only lean on the kitchen door to stand up, secretly wipe away my tears and continue cooking for them.
With no other option, I followed the butcher’s advice and prepared the two pounds and four ounces of meat for them to eat.
